Apologies to my loyal reader for it has been a while since you last heard from me. I am currently surfing the wave of weddingitis and enjoying it so much that I have had little time to write since the school summer holiday ended

I have been distracted by going for the triple – in sporting terms this would be the equivalent of ‘Super Saturday’ or the Nuptial Olympics – but in the real world it means that I am just relieved to have made the cut for the weddings (in order) of my niece, my son and my daughter. Like buses their weddings are all turning up at the same time and my social diary has never looked so enviable. I am learning that the Mother of the Niece, The Groom and The Bride (in that order again) has much to learn. I will not attempt to cram all this life learning into one blog (two of the weddings are still to take place so it is far too early to appear smug), but stay glued over the next few months and, if I can drag myself away from the array of canapes and bucks fizz, I will attempt to draw back the veil on contemporary wedding etiquette.

So far I have learned that:

• Weddings are nothing like they are presented on Married At First Sight (thank goodness, but I will keep watching just in case)
• I am not nearly as decisive as I like to think I am, and, as a result of some expensive dithering, now own seven possible outfits for three weddings. I am available to hire as a crowd filler.
• I am not a hat person and seem much more comfortable wearing the gifted team baseball cap that we all sported at my niece’s Italian wedding – embroidered with ‘It’s amore’ (which I initially read as ‘it’s a crowd’ on account of being short sighted).
• I still cannot dance, but after a few drinks believe that I can. I firmly believed that my nifty recrafting of an Abba classic into ‘I am a Dancing Cheese’ would catch on, before realising that I was the only wedding guest dancing alone with a tall skewer of canape cheese in each hand.

For this wedding instalment let me share my learning from the wedding of my niece to her lovely new husband.

This first wedding took place a fortnight ago in Italy. You may remember me writing before that Italy was my sister’s favourite place, so it was no surprise that my niece chose to share her vows by the lake her mother so adored. I cannot express how present my sister felt throughout the wedding. I have been at many weddings where a glass has been raised to ‘absent friends’ but at this wedding it actually felt like Sis was in her element, sitting on her favourite lakeside bench just soaking in her daughter’s happiness and feeling so proud and touched to have been included in the day – right down to the choice of flowers – and most certainly the choice of groom. She was very, very present. Sis was never going to miss out on a good party.

I wish Sis had been around to help me choose my outfit, but I know she would have thoroughly approved of her daughter’s stunning dress. She would also have been very impressed with the way her husband, her best friend and younger sister (moi) all readily wielded a hand steamer and got to grips with the last minute finessing of veil and wedding cape before the ceremony. My brother in law also appreciated this impromptu facial sauna. I now believe that every bride should have a wedding cape – indeed, every female should have a cape at her disposal. Sis would have chuckled heartily to learn that when her husband took their daughter to have her wedding dress steamed at a local Italian dress shop the day before, his car was towed away on account of him ignoring the Italian parking restrictions – leaving his daughter and her wedding dress to be escorted back to their apartment in a police car. Shame my niece did not have her emergency wedding cape with her but she did have her ‘can do’ attitude and sense of humour, and her only regret was that there was no one there to take a photo of her in the police car.

Naturally it was an emotional day for everyone, and my new learning is that Italian wedding photographers are very different to those in the UK and that they love it when you emote. Without monopolising or holding up proceedings, the photographer caught every moment of the day by just acting as a wedding guest throughout. He laughed, he danced, and he shoved his camera shamelessly in our faces when we were having a snotty good old cry as my niece and her new husband were exchanging their wedding vows. Later, when the lights were dimmed and the groom’s brother started scratching his decks (I think that is what he was doing), the photographer was seen grooving across the lawn (dance floor) with the DJ’s’s baby daughter on one arm, a glass of fizz and his camera in the other. He was living his best life and I cannot wait to see his photos.

My other new learning is that if you travel abroad for a wedding you really get to know the other guests. We were all staying in the same hotel and it was a blessing to be able to dip in and out of the best conversations – and the best breakfast choices. What lovely, lovely people.

As someone who has not been abroad much lately, I was grateful to the whole wedding party for talking me through the breakfast buffet etiquette at the hotel; I for one am still stunned to learn that the Italians have a hypodermic syringe with which to inject Nutella into your breakfast croissant. It transpires that four pumps of the syringe will cause a messy patisserie explosion – consider yourself warned.

As a lover of chocolate I was also excited to see the most gigantic pieces of white, milk and dark chocolate next to the Nutella pump in the hotel restaurant. Thankfully my daughter was able to reign me in before I brought shame upon the whole wedding party. Fortunately I had my hands full with an impressively strong expresso so could not dive in straight away; instead I returned to the table to share my cunning plan to take these chunks back to my bedroom and stave off any later temptation to raid the expensive mini bar. My daughter explained that hotel guests were meant to grate ‘a little’ of the chocolate onto their cappuccino, rather than stash the gargantuan chunks into their napkin. In defence, the only European wedding I have seen is on the film ‘Mama Mia’, and I do not remember wedding guests completing a breakfast bar challenge – perhaps on account of their need to break into song at any given moment.

I could go on, but an imperfect blog cannot truly capture a perfect day. If you are taking weddingquette notes I would recommend that you steal the following from this happiest of nuptials:

• invite gorgeous family and friends on both sides
• have the option of cold water swimming (best not at midnight, but a good refresher the day after) and do not insist that your aged aunt joins in.
• factor in a fire pit
• hand out glow sticks after dark – and organise a beautiful lakeside sunset
• include lots and lots of speeches from beautiful people who clearly adore the bride and groom
• share team nuptial baseball hats
• choose a venue close to an authentic Italian pizza restaurant – everyone needs a pizza supper after two days of fine dining, dancing and drinking.

My niece and her groom deserve the very best future and I write this as my little thank you to them for being included in their very Italian nuptials. I will wear my new baseball cap with pride, go easy on chocolate (in public) and can already report that I have ditched my iron in favour of a hand-held steamer. It truly is domestic amore.